


when muddled irises meet

by danlester (isaacmclahey)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: :), M/M, Zombie AU, badass!dan, description of violence guns and gore, hazel hayes has a brief cameo, not graphic but still there, this was weirdly fun but surprisingly time consuming, zombie!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2905259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaacmclahey/pseuds/danlester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He made it down almost the entire aisle before he sensed the movement to his right, snapping his entire body around and his gun cocked before he even blinked, eyes locking into those of someone new - a new Walker, he presumed, crouched down on the floor, looking up in shock.</p><p>But as precious seconds went by, the man noticed something different about this Walker.</p><p>In fact, it wasn't a Walker at all.</p><p>Blue, yellow and green all muddled together into one messed-up iris; this guy was human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when muddled irises meet

The soft crunch of shoes on broken glass radiated throughout the echoing space, the harsh paleness of winter air suddenly smacking into a fuzzy wall of black inside the abandoned building, the sour tang of death piercing every possible pore. Cool metal grazed the man's long fingers, the fierce click of the trigger tantalisingly close, and the smell of acid corroding through the air, diffusing into the man's laboured breaths with a calculated patience.

The supplies were exactly where he knew they would be, but it wasn't locating them that was the problem; it was avoiding the moving death machines that would drag themselves around the hub of activity every day, craving the taste of raw, oozing flesh, and going even more insane every time they missed out. It had been 312 days since The Epidemic started, and numbers were dwindling to a critical level, according to the Radio records. It only took one bite and you were turned, instinctively following the Walker that turned you - this had lead to half-dead armies being risen and conducted horrifically, mass-murdering on an acidic scale that was sickening.

On several occasions, the man had come close to being bitten, but had never allowed himself enough pity to let himself be caught. However, he had performed a few life-saving operations in his time, often cutting off whole limbs in the desperate attempt to spare the living from Walking, without anaesthetic or antibiotics, usually using a rugged knife and simply sawing through splintering bones as fast as possible. Only once had he performed this act of twisted kindness on a child, no more than 8 years old, a brave young girl with honey eyes and skin the colour of warm earth. The tortured screams and the slippery coating of blood still haunted him, the memory's presence scarlet-red and scalding.

Cautiously, the man moved forward into the abandoned shop, having memorised the route from the door to the aisle he needed to be in, but moving his torch around slowly in a general warning zone to check for any movement within his visibility first. Luckily for him, he could see only blood spattered walls and a vast expanse, brimming with past annihilation.

He made it down almost the entire aisle before he sensed the movement to his right, snapping his entire body around and his gun cocked before he even blinked, eyes locking into those of someone new - a new Walker, he presumed, crouched down on the floor, looking up in shock.

But as precious seconds went by, the man noticed something different about this Walker.

In fact, it wasn't a Walker at all.

Blue, yellow and green all muddled together into one messed-up iris; this guy was human.

"Please-" The other man croaked out, his arm above his face in a pathetic attempt to stop any injury. "Please, I-"

"Get up." The first man ordered, quietly, making a split second decision and praying to God that he wouldn't regret it. "Get up, shut up and follow me."

Scrambling weakly to his feet, the second man followed the first directly behind, failing to remain completely silent but clearly putting in an effort to reduce noise. After a good ten metres, an idea suddenly occurred to the first man, and he held up his hand to signify stopping, and turned to face the second man straight on, inwardly pleased to see he was an inch taller.

"Do you have any others in here?" He whispered, ignoring the prickling on the back of his neck that came from turning his back on a dark space. Fortunately, the response was merely a shake of the head, and no further explanation, so they continued down the aisle with the gun cocked in front of them, tensions running high and every single muscle clenched.

"Here." The first man whispered, nodding towards a waterfall of silver tin cans. "We're putting some in this bag, and then carrying as many as possible, since there doesn't appear to be any Walkers around at the moment."

Silence settled for a few moments as the pair loaded dented cans into the shabby black bag, and the first man could sense that the other was about to say something, and hoped _really fucking hard_ that he would just keep it to himself. Unfortunately, no such luck.

"My name's Phil, by the way." The second man whispered under his breath, his hand slipping as soon as he said this and almost dropping the can he was holding, gasping louder than the words he'd just uttered and then breathing a loud sigh of relief when he managed to semi-catch it.

"Keep your breathing quiet, for fucks sake," Dan mumbled, failing in his attempts to not sound petty. "I'm Dan. And _you_ need to keep quiet." 

"Sorry." Phil said, apologetically, before beginning to zip up the bag, a painfully loud sound that resonated throughout the room, but was essentially unavoidable.

A slow and heavy exit laboured itself upon them, both weighted down with tins, and what with Phil being totally unarmed. Dan managed to perform a quick sweep of the area with his torch, but found nothing worth worrying about, which worried him in itself.

"It seems too quiet." Dan murmured to Phil, his free hand still sweeping the area, before switching the torch with a gun as they approached the exit. "I think we need to move fast. They're not stupid."

"Right."

The pair moved cautiously across the yard outside the empty shop, both severely uncomfortable with being out in the open, but knowing that it was safer than crawling around the dubious shadows. Cobbled stones meant that their step was occasionally thwarted, but they managed to make it across the yard without any notable hassle, their blood pounding in their ears and their organs tight in their chest.

Just as they reached the opening onto the street, Dan signalled a stop and muttered under his breath.

"Something's definitely going on - you're coming back to our camp, right?"

"Uh, I guess?"

"Good. You're going to need this." Dan slung the ratty backpack off his shoulders and handed it to Phil, his arm still ready, his eyes still on the lookout for any suspicious movement. "The entrance is behind the chemist shop - knock twice on the door at the back, and say I sent you."

"Wait, where are _you_ going?" Taking the backpack and wincing a little at the weight, the black-haired male suddenly reached out and put his hand on Dan's arm, much to the other's surprise. "You aren't doing anything stupid, are you?"

"You've only known me five minutes - you don't get to judge my actions." Dan replied, but there was a small smile on his face, so Phil knew he wasn't being serious, "I'm going to try to figure out what's going on. Scout around some known Walker camps."

"I'm pretty sure that counts as doing something stupid." Phil mumbled, but he was smiling too. "How long will that take?"

Rolling his eyes, Dan ignored Phil's question and pressed forward into the street, sweeping the area quickly and nodding Phil in the direction of the chemist, before pausing and evaluating the road, turning back to quickly mutter something to the other male before moving forward in the direction of the chemist.

"I should probably walk you there before scouting - you're totally unarmed, it would be a tad moronic."

"Er, right."

They made it halfway down the road before something happened.

Slow, scraping thuds reached their ears at the same time, and they both froze on the spot, before turning to the source of the noise, muscles clenched in momentary paralysis. The click of the gun being unlocked was harsh in comparison to the irregular shuffling of the Walker, but it was nothing compared to the echoing, jarring bang that was the sound of the bullet leaving the gun, and burrowing itself into the Walker's skull.

In shock, it took Phil almost five seconds to move - a long time when zombies are pouring out of nearby ditches - although an arm tug from Dan certainly helped, along with a yelled "C'mon!". Stumbling almost blindly after the brown-haired boy with the gun, Phil managed to make it almost a hundred metres before he felt a hand on his arm, and when he looked beside him, the eerie white iris of the Walker stared back at him, unseeing and hungry.

A stream of swear words left his mouth as he tried to bat the claw off, the panic in him rising as more and more Walkers began to surround him- hysteria bubbling and clawing at his insides and-

_bang- bang- bang-_

The grip on his arm was released, leaving a gruesome maroon blood mark, and Phil managed to smack away several other decaying masses before continuing in his stuttered sprint, the scent of death and decay thick in the air as he followed the trail of the other male, the chemist shop tantalisingly close, the one in front managing to shoot several of them in one swoop and kick them to the left before wrenching the door open and dragging Phil inside.

Quiet settled as the door shut and the two leant against it as Dan quickly locked a few things, ignoring the inhumane thuds that came from the other side, leaving Phil to catch his breath for a few moments, his eyes sneaking a closer look at the person who just saved his sorry ass.

Sweat lined Dan's forehead, mud and blood smattered across both of his cheeks in questionable quantities, and he looked severely more dishevelled than he did when they first met, but there was a light in his eye that hadn't been there before; an element of fierce adrenaline that couldn't be gained from many other things. His small black earrings were still neatly tucked into his ear, sat beside an interesting bruise that stretched down from just beside his ear to below his jawline, and Phil had no idea how one would go about getting one of that size and position, but he didn't dare ask.

Almost before he could stop himself, he was letting his eyes roam over Dan's physique; his still heaving chest and long legs proved themselves good factors for running from Walkers, but apart from that he appeared very slim in build, and yet still tall - an unusual combination, but not unattractive, and it certainly appeared to be working for him, since he was still alive. However, Phil managed to pull himself out of this minor stupor fairly quickly, and looked back up at Dan, who was wearing a small smirk, and had his forehead resting on the closed door with his eyes shut.

"Well," He said, finally, pulling his head up off the door and meeting Phil's eye, "That was fun."

"Fun?" Phil half-squeaked, but Dan was already moving away from the front door, locking several locks and dragging a heavy looking cabinet in front of it, giving Phil a few seconds to look around the dark and musky room, his eye catching the shiny glass cupboards, mostly smashed, and a big desk at the back of the room that would need to be vaulted to climb over. It was a very well planned hideout, but Phil was sure that there must be more than just the chemist shop involved - Dan _had_ said 'camp', right?

"Right, this way," Dan motioned, before slipping the backpack off Phil's shoulder and hooking it over his own, as if Phil would be too weak to carry it. Of course, Phil inwardly objected to this, but he didn't dare say so outwardly, especially if Dan was to be in charge of his care over the next few hours. 

As predicted, the two had to vault the large wooden desk that was almost hip-height, and - upon further inspection - nailed to the ground with several hundred sturdy looking nails. After this, Dan approached a semi-hidden door behind a large mirror, and knocked twice, waiting a few seconds until he was sure he could hear someone on the other side, before calling out softly:

"Hazel? It's Dan. I've got food."

"Thank _God_." The heavy door was wrenched open after a few quiet clicks, and Phil could just about make out a tall girl with long brown hair and a stern expression around the corner, her Irish accent thick and lilting, "Daniel James Howell, we've been through this. _Any_ outing requires _at least two people._ " 

"There _are_ two of us." Dan chose this moment to drag Phil into a spot where he could be seen, much to Phil's simultaneous alarm and surprise, "See?"

The woman narrowed her eyes, before folding her arms and shooting Dan a suspicious look.

"He's not one of ours. Where d'ya get him?"

"The shop." Dan did not elaborate, "Can we come in now?"

Wordlessly, Hazel turned on her heel and walked back into the dimly light room behind her, beckoning the pair to follow her, but not helping either of them as they struggled through the relatively small door.

"She's not really mad." Dan muttered to Phil as he locked the door behind them, "She just hates that I break the rules, is all."

"I wonder why." Phil replied, sarcastically, without thinking at all about the reception, and instantly bit his tongue to stop himself from saying anything more, but Dan was grinning- laughing almost, although not responding, focusing instead on the door and the camp's safety.

"This way," He said, finally, when he'd finished locking up and started to wander down a dingy looking corridor, "Sorry about the shit lighting."

In the surreal calm of the long corridor, Phil reflected on the events he'd just been forced through, and shuddered; in his old camp, they stayed as close to the hide-out as possible, and didn't go above ground if they could help it. This atmosphere seemed totally different and they weren't even at the main part of camp yet.

As they turned the corner, Phil was almost blinded by the overflow of light entering his eyes, blinking rapidly and shaking his head a little.

"Used to be a junkyard." Dan explained, after Phil had adjusted, pointing towards the high walls and the faded sign saying 'Toni's garage' at the top of the nearby garage area, "We've managed to put up some shelters with some of the crap Toni's gang has left behind. There's an underneath bit as well, 'cause they obviously needed some storage. Serves us pretty well."

"It's amazing." Phil managed to stutter out, looking around the patchwork shelters, made out of tyres and tarpaulins and poles and all sorts of random car parts: it looked like something out of a sci-fi movie, and yet Phil didn't doubt that they had all poured themselves into building it, and that it would withstand many things.

Dan simply smiled in response, a 'thanks' within itself, and then looked down at his feet, pulling the rucksack off his shoulder and checking the contents.

"I need to get some more bullets and stick these on the shelves downstairs - you wanna come with?"

"Er, sure." Despite being in awe of the construction and layout of the place, Phil still felt every single stare directed at him - there had to be 40 people in that space, and almost every single one was staring at him, telling him he quite clearly didn't fit; being in awe didn't mean he was a part of it.

He followed Dan across the yard, head ducked and fists clenched, bobbing under a low tarpaulin and into an old garage, soft feet pattering on the solid flooring, down a set of wooden stairs, into the darkness below.

And that was how Phil began his stay at Camp Toni.

**Author's Note:**

> this was rlly weird and waay out of my comfort zone but also kind of awesome??


End file.
